


Dust

by PSebae



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PSebae/pseuds/PSebae
Summary: Quiet and Ocelot’s mission didn’t go well, they take shelter from a sandstorm together but Quiet's not doing so good. Blood/injury mention.





	

D. Horse’s plodding footsteps, the hissing of dry sandy earth sliding through the wind, the occasional muted clink of their gear. It was soothing, lulling, it surrounded them like a familiar blanket… Ocelot blinked slowly, the movement made him realise he was drifting off and he started to rapidly blink behind his glasses to wake himself up, and looked around. Quiet looked back at him knowingly from where she walked along side and he coughed. It was good to know she was awake and had his back, but it was embarrassing that he’d been slipping up like that. It had been a long day.

 

The sun was low in the sky for the second time since they’d hit the area, the low light bathing the rocks around them in a dusky red. Quiet’s shoulder had taken a bad blow during the mission, but it had stopped bleeding already and was well on its way to healing up. The other marks on her body were almost entirely gone. Ocelot’s eyes still burned from a smoke grenade but he’d gotten off easy in comparison to her. Despite her injuries, she was still insistent on walking, and hadn’t even accepted the offer that they take turns riding the horse. They were both tired, and a little irritable and more than a little bit sore.  
  
The mission hadn’t gone well, but it also hadn’t been a total loss, they’d come away with the information they’d gone for, but they’d been hoping for the man that had carried the information too. The fact that Ocelot’s single Fulton balloon was laying in tatters somewhere in the mountains was testament to how well that extraction component to the mission had gone.

 

Their target had been in pain, his wounds worse than they’d anticipated, but not so bad that they couldn’t get him out quickly by air. Unfortunately no amount of warning him that it was imperative that he stay quiet had done the job, and the moment his broken foot had knocked against a door frame he’d cried out loudly, attracting attention. Ocelot had already gotten the information out of him before the failed attempt at an extraction. Now Ocelot’s coat tails were punched full of holes, and so was his pride. Quiet just looked sullen but that seemed to be her natural resting expression, so it was hard to know exactly how she felt about the day’s events.

 

Miller had torn them a new one over the iDroid for failing to bring back the prisoner alive, and they were not rushing back to their extraction point. There was a small outpost to the south-east if they took a diversion, and they were aiming for that. Miller had warned him to come back with _something_ useful, or at least leave Quiet out there. Ocelot felt there was an unspoken piece of advice to just stay there himself. Things were not going well between him and Miller.

 

D. Horse’s ears flicked around and Ocelot’s gaze was taken off his companion as the reigns tugged in his grip. He looked up and around and grit his teeth.  
“Quiet.”  
She looked up at him then followed his gaze. A looming wall of dust and sand was bearing down at them from farther up the road. She stopped walking and behind her heard Ocelot’s horse turn and start off across the road and down the rocky slope.  
“This way! Quickly!”  
She followed, bounding over the road barrier and hopping along in his wake, down into the hollow that might offer them some paltry protection. Below them was a small dilapidated building with what looked like it might once have been something of a goat pen in the front. These small lonely long abandoned buildings dotted the landscape, and they were a better option than the encroaching sandstorm. The building was still a fair distance away however, nearly half a mile, it would take them time to get there. Quiet saw Ocelot marking it on his iDroid, they both knew the storm would hit them before they reached the shelter. She came closer, reaching up to rest a hand on the horse least they get separated.

 

The storm hit with a ghostly hissing. Ocelot shrugged up his shoulders, pinning his scarf better around his nose and mouth and hiding behind his collar. Quiet tucked in her chin, brought her googles down over her eyes and trusted in D. Horse’s guidance. She felt something envelope her hand, Ocelot had reached down to make sure she was still there, he didn’t let go.

 

“We’re nearly there!” Ocelot yelled after a harrowing march across rough earth. He felt Quiet’s hand slipping from his and his grip tightened. “Quiet?” He pulled D. Horse up short and pulled her closer. “Climb up.” Quiet hesitated, but the injury in her shoulder was throbbing angrily and she felt increasingly tired and dizzy. She squinted up at him, then swung herself up behind him. Muffling a noise of pain as she did so. His arm followed her motion around onto the back of the horse and helped her get secure. His hand remained on her hip a little longer, he wasn’t convinced she was okay. “Don’t worry, we’ll get undercover soon.” That wasn’t particularly comforting for a person who needed sunlight. She half slumped against him.

 

It felt like an eternity, trudging through the biting dust that scoured any exposed flesh raw, and pushed into any crease in their clothing, filling up boots and a getting into places dust simply shouldn’t be. Then they passed through a low crumbling mud and stone wall and into an area that looked slightly more managed than the surrounding landscape. If neglected and left to turn wild again. Ocelot pulled D. Horse away from a trip hazard and slid down off his steed’s back to lead him further up the stony path.

 

At the doorway to the hut, which was still intact for the most part, Ocelot helped Quiet down. He gingerly lead D. Horse in through the doorway and into the small building with its threadbare rugs and the remnants of a few pieces of rough furniture. Sandy earth that had blown in through the boarded up window and under the door was piled up in corners. D. Horse, glad to be free of the buffeting wind whinnied in relief, at Ocelot’s direction he folded up his strong legs and laid down. Quiet closed the door behind them then swayed where she stood.  
  
“Come here,” Ocelot held out a hand to her. “Sit down.” She ignored his hand, but came over. She dropped down on the rug and let him inspect the wound on her shoulder. It had been very deep, enough to incapacitate a normal person and cause her no small amount of distress. In bright sunlight with access to water she would have healed quickly, but she had used up her canteen of water on the way here under patchy skies, and the wound was still only half closed. Ocelot’s mouth twisted in dislike at the fine grains of dirt that had been driven into the wound, but on further investigation he found his own canteen of water painfully close to empty and his mouth felt like old leather. They’d both used up more water than they’d expected. He grimaced and handed her the canteen. She shook it, scowled and handed it back.

 

“Quiet.” He tried again and she turned her back on him. “Okay fine. Half each, to get us through until the sand storm stops.” She side eyed him as he took a swig, then handed it to her. She reluctantly took it and tilted the bottle over her shoulder, hoping to wash out some of the dirt even as she absorbed what she could.

 

Ocelot went over to tend to D. Horse while Quiet lay down and tried to save her energy, but he could feel her eyes on him. This was the first time they’d been off site together, and he wasn’t able to lie to himself and tell himself he was entirely at ease. It would be far too easy to get rid of him out here. D. Horse shook his head, glad to have his mask taken off, and nuzzled into Ocelot’s hand looking for treats.  
“Sorry boy, not today.”

 

He dozed, leaning up against his horse’s side, feet resting on the removed tack. Quiet curled up on the rug, head resting on her hand. At some point Ocelot snapped out of a deeper sleep, hoped for a moment that the storm had stopped, but in the time it took him to glance at the boarded up window, he’d heard the wind and hissing sand and knew that wasn’t the case. It was darker however, night had fallen some time ago. He checked his iDroid, a message, was that what had woken him up?   
No helicopter recovery possible. – Miller.  
“No fucking kidding.”

Quiet grunted and shifted. Ocelot jumped and raised his iDroid, the weak blue light helping illuminate the sleeping woman’s face. She didn’t look good. Ocelot frowned and got up, she opened her eyes a crack and looked up at him as he crouched down beside her.

 

“Hey, you doing okay?”  
She nodded but her eyes looked unfocused and her skin dull in the blue light. He put the iDroid down on its side to keep the light on her and rummaged in his pocket. When he drew out the lighter she flinched back and he reached out to hold her arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay I just need the light.” She stared at him wide eyed and tried to push him away. Weakly.  
Flick. The flame shot upwards for a moment then settled down, flickering in the draught from outside. Quiet’s eyes fixated on it, she didn’t even look away when he tugged off his glove with his teeth and ran his fingers over her forehead. His suspicions were correct, she felt dry and looked grey and dull. He rubbed his fingers together, there was a very light dust, almost like talc coating his fingers. He closed the lighter and double checked his canteen. Nothing.  
“You’re not doing well, are you?”  
She closed her eyes, the threat gone, and slumped back against the rug. The iDroid timed out. Ocelot sat in darkness, thinking.

 

“I’m going to get you water.” He said, and stood up. Her hand shot out and grabbed his boot. “I’ll be back.”  
She made a dull humming sound, almost a growl.  
“You need water.” He smacked his dry lips and laughed hoarsely. “And so do I.” If it amused her to any degree she didn’t show it, she just took her hand back and turned away from him. He gazed down at her for a little longer, wondering if she was worried for him, or just concerned that if he got lost in the storm, she’d get the blame for it.

 

Ocelot fixed his glasses on firmly and adjusted his scarf. He slipped out through the door and into the storm. Immediately the dirt bit into his exposed ears and the burn on his cheeks reminded him of its presence, but he knew where he was going. He braced himself flat against the door, fixing his position in his mind, and stepped forwards into the yard. Towards where once there had been a gate, and where there was a water pump. He’d seen it on the way in, when D. Horse had narrowly missed stepping into its trough. Now he pushed towards that, ears straining for any sound that might betray that they were followed here, eyes scanning for trip hazards or familiar shapes in the haze of dust. There! A slightly wonky shape, but unmistakably a water pump.

 

He hoped it still worked as he set about trying to draw up water, and after a few gasps and gurgles and spurts of unpleasant muddy sludge that quickly soaked into the dirt in the trough, clear water was gushing from the pipe with each pump. Ocelot reached for his canteen, then saw beside the pump was an old metal bucket. Its handle had rusted through and it had fallen to the ground. He picked it up and inspected it as best he could, an annoying dry cough started to tickle at the back of his throat from the airborne dirt and dry air. The bucket seemed to be solid enough and Ocelot tried filling it with water. It held. Each gush of water from the pipe caught more dust from the air and the water in the bucket was less than perfectly clean, but it was better than nothing. Holding it close to his chest Ocelot carefully retreated back to the hut and felt along the wall until the door came into view.

 

D. Horse looked up when he stumbled in with a slosh of water and closed the door behind him. Quiet did not. Ocelot put the bucket down and for the first time realised the warmth was leaching out of the building. He rummaged for his lighter again and used it to look around the room.

 

Quiet stirred at a cracking sound and opened one eye. It felt dry and it hurt to open. A few feet away Ocelot was… Doing something… In the darkness. A flame flickered, caught, grew. She heard a faint puffing sound over the crackling of dry grasses. A few small sparks quickly caught the smaller pieces of wood and caught. Smoke spiralled up from the small fire. She tried to sit up but her shoulder screamed at her and her skin felt like it might crack off, she slumped back down. Ocelot hurried over, now illuminated and once again encrusted with dust. “Sorry,” he said. “I know it won’t make the air in here any better, but at least there’s a draught drawing it out.” He pointed at something in the roof, but she didn’t try to turn to look. She wasn’t sure she could. Instead she watched Ocelot sit beside her in the light of the small fire, and drag over a… Bucket? She reached for it hopefully but he shook his head. “Don’t try, just save your energy.”  
  
He dipped one bare hand into the bucket of water with the dust swirling on its clogged surface, and flicked the water across Quiet’s bare arm, side and thigh. She shivered lightly from top to toe and the water was gone almost as soon as it touched her skin. Not wanting to overload the symbionts, Ocelot kept this up, dashing her body lightly with water as the fire consumed the broken pieces of wood and grasses that he’d from around the room and from cracks in the floor. He kept going even as the light died to a gentle glow. Slowly Quiet’s pale, off-colour, dusty looking skin started to moisten, flush with colour again, the swirls and twists of horrendous burns under the surface started to fade as the creatures that mimicked human skin we revitalised. She opened her eyes and stopped his hand. Ocelot froze, blinking his burning eyes for tears that wouldn’t come.

 

Quiet sat up stiffly, the wound in her shoulder was progressing slowly, still a long way from being healed. She peered into the bucket then picked it up, and held it for him to drink. He thanked her, but it was mostly a dry croak, and drank deeply, only to cut himself off at the last minute and take the last of it to D. Horse. “Hey boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty too. I’ll get us more when the storm stops eh?” Quiet lay back down, smiling as Ocelot fondled the horse’s ears while it noisily slurped up the last of the water.

 

Her smile faded as she found her eyes drawn to the dying fire. She reached out and flexed her fingers in silhouette, pondering the way her fingers glowed orange and pink with the light bouncing around inside of them. Clink. Clink. She looked up as Ocelot walked over. He looked exhausted and when he stood before the fire she could see the bullet holes in his coat. She had drawn attention to herself when she’d started to pick off the soldiers chasing him. It was the entire reason she was here after all: to provide cover and back up, and she hadn’t even thought about it at the time, but when it involved Ocelot, it was really quite ironic... She snorted and Ocelot looked down at her.  
“Quiet?”  
  
She put a finger through one of the holes and tugged on it, he laughed. “Yeah, like Swiss cheese, and I liked this coat too! Would have been me though, if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”  
Quiet frowned and he tilted his head to the side, it reminded her of D.D.. It was cute and that didn’t help her mood. She pointed at the fire. Ocelot sat down.  
“You know, it would be far easier if you’d just talk to me.” She scowled. “But then this more than anyone else gets so I won’t complain.”  
Now that he was closer she could reach his pocket, and tried to rummage in it.  
“Hoi!” he snapped, drawing away. “You looking for this?” He drew out the lighter and she immediately recoiled. Ocelot stared at her. Then at the lighter and the fire. Then the bullet holes that would have been in him if this woman hadn’t protected him. “Oh.” He put the lighter away. “That’s it, eh?”  
  
They sat in silence. Even D. Horse had gone back to sleep. “I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Ishmael thought it was best I left straight away, but I figured Venom might pose a problem until he could walk… Didn’t expect XOF to get there so fast.” He glanced at Quiet. She was staring into the fire. “When I heard the commotion I came running, but that’s why I was unarmed. Except for this.” The lighter burnt for an instant, then he snapped the lid shut. Quiet gazed warily at him. “I figured you were dead. Didn’t realise The Sniper, Quiet, was the same woman as in the hospital. Then all of a sudden you were standing in front of me on the deck, shooting me daggers with your eyeballs.” He stood up long enough to grab some more of the broken up crate he was using to feed the fire, then returned to her side. “I figured you wouldn’t be stupid enough to make an attempt on my life while you were on the base.”  
She shot him a nasty look.  
“What? I say that as a compliment!”  
She rolled her eyes.  
“I was hoping I could show you things could be better off for you there than with XOF. Try to persuade you to stay.”  
Quiet shrugged, she knew all this already.  
“It worked I guess. I’m alive and you’re still here. Alive because you’re still here. Is that what’s bothering you? That you’ve saved me, not just spared me, after what I did to you?”  
She didn’t look at him.  
“I appreciate it. Not just being saved mind you.”  
Now she looked up.  
“You’ve changed your attitude about me since we met as prisoner and guard. You didn’t just save my life out here today because you could. I have no doubts if you’d seen me out here, before Venom brought you back to the base, that you’d have shot me yourself.”   
She nodded.  
“Thank you for giving me a second chance to make an impression on you.”  
She glared, but there was no venom to it this time. Ocelot grinned and she pointed at the bucket.  
“Huh?”

 

No amount of gesticulation seemed to get her point across, so Quiet just sat up, leant on her knees and kept watch while Ocelot curled up and went to sleep. Ocelot _had_ made a better second impression on her, and a third and a forth, and many others besides and there would probably be more in the future. Of course, in the face of burning to death, even some of his worse impressions were better than his first impression on her... She didn’t think she could ever hear the sound of a Zippo lighter again without feeling her heart seize up on her, and yes, Ocelot’s wild eyed leap across the hospital bed towards her would feature in many more nightmares to come. But while XOF had put her back together, they hadn’t looked at her as a person. Ocelot was under no illusions about what he’d done to her, but that was the point. XOF hadn’t cared about what they’d done to her, she wasn’t even a ‘her’ to them. Just a weapon, just a tool. She thought of The Skulls and shuddered. No…XOF wouldn’t have gotten her under cover tonight, or braved the sand storm again just to get her some water. She’d been an experiment and when it had gone well they’d taken the data and put her to work, but they hadn’t cared.

 

Quiet rested her cheek on her knee and stared down at Ocelot, scruffy and dusty and with his glasses wonky on his forehead. Ocelot was a thorough interrogator, but she’d always gotten the impression that he cared about doing his job well and fairly. He was satisfied that she wasn’t a threat to them, and continued to be her advocate on base. He brought her music, one of the few human indulgences she could still enjoy. She wondered how life could have gotten so strange, that she could start to think of the man who’d contributed to her first death, as being one of her better friends. Ocelot snuffled in his sleep. Dust breathed in through the window. Quiet slept.


End file.
